


Until the Clock Strikes Twelve

by thesynapticsnap



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesynapticsnap/pseuds/thesynapticsnap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch is stuck in the body and mind of a small child, with no recollection of who he is, until his next birthday. North takes Pitch under the protection of the Guardians, convinced that they can turn his life around if they shower him with love and affection for as long as they can. The only problem is, no one knows Pitch’s birthday, so there’s no telling when he’ll revert back. Jack & Pitch (friendship) centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the Clock Strikes Twelve

**Author's Note:**

> I toyed with the idea of addressing Pitch's background as Kozmotis from the books. However, after writing in a couple scenes regarding this, I realized the fic would need to be much longer and darker to properly address all of the issues that surround such a drastic event. I wanted to write a short, trope-y, lighthearted fic, so I stuck with film canon only. I've only noticed one other de-aged Pitch fic on here (haven't checked the kink meme, are there any there?), but have seen some cute artwork with a de-aged Pitch which actually inspired this.
> 
> It's a bit rushed and probably has some mistakes I've missed, but I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for reading!

_I am an unfortunate and deserted creature, I look around and I have no relation or friend upon earth. These amiable people to whom I go have never seen me and know little of me. I am full of fears, for if I fail there, I am an outcast in the world forever._  
\--Frankenstein's monster

* * *

 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me, North. Jack Frost joining our ranks was one thing, but there is no way I’m letting--”

“Keep your voice down!” North shushed his companion, before turning to pat the dark head of the young one hidden behind his leg. Upon first glance, the child appeared to be a miniature version of the Guardian’s greatest foe, Pitch Black, clad in a giant embroidered sweater. Funny how Bunny got that impression upon his second and third glances too.

“North, that is _Pitch Black_ ,” Bunny growled, advancing on them until the popping of North’s knuckles stopped him in his tracks. He looked up with a fury in his eyes. “You’re mad! Look at him! He’s weak and vulnerable, this might be our only chance to --”

“Change him,” North finished for him. “This is a second chance for all of us, Bunny. How can you, you most of all, ignore that this is a gift of hope?”

The Pooka had nothing to say to that, not wanting to argue if North was going to strike as low a blow as accusing him of ignoring his own center. He started to stomp a foot on the ground and descend into his tunnels, but before he could escape, Sandy, Jack, and Tooth arrived through an open set of windows. Apparently they’d all caught the same gale to the North Pole. He eyed the airborne Guardians wearily and felt his stomach churn when Jack absentmindedly flipped in mid air before landing beside of North.

“Hey, so what’s the big deal North, I’ve got a - whoa what is that.”

Jack crouched down on his haunches and looked the little Pitch Black straight in the eyes, causing him to hide fully behind North. Not even Tooth, who was always charmed by the antics of children, uttered an ‘aww’. Each and every one of them was very much aware of who that little sweater-clad child was, and all of their hearts had hardened upon the realization. All but North, it seemed. He shooed Jack away with his hand and didn’t speak until the others had distanced themselves from he and the terrified child.

“Now before the rest of you spout off like Bunny,” he said, turning to the little Pitch and tugging him gently before him. The child tucked his hands behind his back and stared pointedly at the floor, North’s arms weighing against his shoulders in an attempt to comfort. “I do realize how this looks. Yes, the child is Pitch. He knows his name, but little more. He has no idea of what he committed as an adult and I would prefer to keep it that way!”

The little Pitch slowly raised his eyes from the floor and looked from one Guardian to the next with wide, golden eyes. They did not contain the malice and envy that had clouded them upon their last encounter, but rather the genuine uncertainty of a child far from home from the first time. As Jack met his eyes, he thought of how he’d seen the same forlorn look in the eyes of lost children wandering the snowy forests, panicked but attempting to maintain control.

“A curse,” North went on. “I had began to explain the details to Bunny before the rest of you arrived, but it is worth repeating. Pitch angered a sorceress, and a clever one at that - she brought him to me after the transformation. Long story short, he has been trapped in the body and mind of a child until his next birthday.”

“And when the bloody hell is that?” Bunny blurted, unable to contain himself. His interruption earned a long, unnerving glare from North before the other continued.

“I don’t know. The sorceress did not know. Not even Pitch himself knows. He was born a long, long time ago and ages quite differently from a mortal, so his birthday likely never mattered to him.”

“Aww, maybe that’s why he’s such a grouch. All kids need a birthday party,” Jack laughed, nearing North and the little Pitch once again. This time when he crouched down before Pitch the child seemed determined to conquer his anxiety and stared right back at the frost spirit, much to Jack’s delight. He pouted out his lip and crossed his arms at what he must have perceived as a mocking smile from Jack, which caused the sleeves of the oversized sweater he was wearing to flop over one another.

“Can he speak?” Tooth asked, still keeping her distance, and Sandy shrugged, curious as to why it should matter.

“Oh, well, he’s spoken a little,” North replied, patting Pitch’s shoulder. “I think he may just be shy in front of strangers.”

“...’m not shy,” Pitch muttered, and that was what finally drew a happy little squeal from Tooth and sent Jack into hysterics. His normally low, menacing voice was gone, replaced by the rather high-pitched tone of a child. Though he retained some of his mannerisms -- the nasty glare he was currently directing at Jack, who was making a show of rolling around on the floor, for instance -- all of those were undone by the childish voice coupled with his tiny body dressed in a giant Christmas sweater.

“Jack please, contain yourself or I will call the yetis... Phil has been wanting a second go at you for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, dusting little trails of ice from his cheeks as he got to his feet. He couldn’t, however, wipe the grin from his face. Pitch was highly unamused and looked to be on the verge of a tantrum when North scooped him into his arms, letting Pitch rest his chin against his shoulder and face away from the others. The temporary lift in mood faded when they heard a soft whine from North’s shoulder, followed by childish sobs. Even that was enough to erase Jack’s smile. None of them ever liked to see a child distressed, even if said child was Pitch Black.

“Ah, come on, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jack said, approaching cautiously. Upon sensing that he was coming close, Pitch whipped his head back, exposing a rather flushed, wet face.

“Go away!” he demanded angrily. “I hate you, get away from me!”

And with that he wrapped his arms tightly around North’s neck and continued to sob quietly. Jack looked as if the summer sun had melted 300 winters of his creation in a single moment.

“No kid’s ever said that to me before,” he said softly.

“Don’t take it personally,” Bunny said, clapping a paw on his shoulder. “It’s Pitch. I don’t care if he is a kid, there’s eggs that are rotten from the start.” His temporary softness toward the child seemed to have evaporated when he saw just how hurt Jack was by his words.

“Bunny,” Tooth chastised. “That’s not true. No child is ever born evil, they’re shaped that way by the adults in their lives. Pitch didn’t mean to upset Jack anymore than Jack meant to upset him. I think I understand why North brought us all together now. It’s a chance to --”

“Change things,” Bunny finished for her. “Yeah, yeah, I already got that lecture before the lot of you arrived.”

“But North is right. We’ve been given a very special chance to change all of our lives for the better. Think, we have time to show Pitch what it’s like to have a family, and instill goodness and hope in him --”

“And we have no idea how long we have. Within a week he could revert back to his old self, grudge and powers back in full force. Why don’t you just grab this kid’s memories and we take a look at the happy little childhood he had? I’m betting you anything there’s nothing there that turned him into such a monster other than his own nasty little core...”

“I don’t have his memories,” Tooth said. “Pitch is an ancient being, and not even a human one at that. You know we only collect the memories of human children.”

“Convenient,” Bunny snorted. “This is a real mess, eh Sandy?”

Golden sand wove shapes above the smallest Guardian’s head, creating first a tree, and then the image of a mother rocking a child in her arms. A plus sign appeared between them.

“It is not a case of either or,” North said. “Sandy said it best. Both nature and nurture are central to the shaping of a child. Maybe we cannot change Pitch’s center, or his past, but we can at least give him a safe haven for a short while. It may mean nothing, or it may mean everything. Now if anyone wants to leave, they should do so now.”

He stared hard at Bunny. It was obvious that the argument had done nothing to sway his thoughts on the matter, and that he was itching to be gone.

“I’m free then? No more guilt trips?” Bunny said, chuckling hollowly.

“You are free to go. I don’t think you need guilt other than what you should feel at abandoning your very cen--”

“Oh bug off,” Bunny spat, his ears flattening. “I know my center, North. I also know when there’s hope for a kid and when it’s time to turn away. Sometimes there just isn’t anything you can do and giving a kid hope when there is none is crueler than the alternative. Ring me when you need someone to deal with the aftermath of this little experiment.”

The Guardians were at a loss for what to say when Bunny disappeared, leaving nothing but a flower behind as evidence he’d been there at all. North had seen Bunny in a variety of moods, ranging from panicked to angrier than a hornet’s nest, but never so devoid of hope.

A soft little sniffle from North’s shoulder redirected their attention to the child at the center of all this turmoil. All of them felt a pang of regret for arguing in front of him - surely he knew enough to make out that he was the source of their fighting. North bounced him softly in his arms.

“It’s okay, little one,” he said gently, before redirectly his gaze to the others. “I will arrange a bedroom for him. Sandy, Tooth, I know you must be getting back to work...”

“Of course we’ll be here when we can,” Tooth said, and Sandy nodded in agreement. “I think this is great, North. Thank heavens Pitch was brought to us and not left to defend himself. We’re going to do a great job of taking care of him. We’ll show Bunny we can make a difference.”

“I’m gonna try and find some things for Pitch,” Jack said. “Starting with some new clothes. That sweater has got to go.”

North returned Jack’s wry smile, and the winter spirit was off. Over the snowy hills and crackling sea he flew, through forests of deep green, and eventually into the warmer parts beyond the north’s grip. He was not one to visit places that were well into their summer season, even his hometown of Burgess, but he would make an exception this time.

He found Jamie playing in a pool at one of his friend’s houses. The children were too busy splashing one another and screaming to notice his approach, and for a panicked moment he thought perhaps his memory had melted with the last of the snow in Burgess. He approached silently and crouched beside the pool, dipping his fingers into the turbulent waters. A thin trail of ice spread across them, ending at Jamie’s shoulder, before melting into their warmth. The boy turned and Jack let himself breathe when his eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face. The other children heard him shout Jack’s name and were quickly swimming toward the edge of the pool where the Guardian was crouched.

“Hey, is it gonna snow today? That’d be so weird,” Jamie greeted him excitedly.

“You should make it snow, it’s too hot,” Cupcake grumbled, and Jack waved a hand over her, creating a temporary mist of cool air to sooth her.

“No,” Jack chuckled, and the children gave an ‘aw, man’ in unison. “I needed to borrow something actually. Do any of you guys have winter clothes left over?”

“I-I do,” Monty piped up. “This is my house so it’d be easiest for me to go get them.”

He crawled out of the water, grabbed his glasses from the poolside, and made a beeline for the house.

“Why do you need those?” Jamie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Long story. We’ve got a kid at the North Pole that needs some things.”

“Doesn’t he have a mom that can buy him stuff?” asked Pippa, seeming genuinely confused.

Jack thought briefly of North, cradling the little Pitch and trying his best to dress him.

“Um...he’s just staying with us for a while until we can...figure out where his mom is.”

“Oh. Well he could come visit us. We won’t be mean to him or anything. It stinks being stuck with grown-ups all summer.”

Jack smiled at the children.

“I know you’d be nice to him,” he said. “Maybe I’ll bring him to visit you.”

Monty returned, breathless from shooting up and down the stairs and across the yard, and fell over right before he reached Jack.

“I’m okay,” he muttered from where he’d face-planted, extending his arms to offer Jack a stack of clothing. Jack helped him up before taking the clothes in his arms and readying himself to leave. As he tried to say goodbye, the children began to whine for him to stay, and Cupcake begged once more for it to snow.

Funny how these kids seemed to love him, but he couldn’t get so much as a smile out of Pitch, he thought as he departed (leaving a small trail of snow in his wake just for the fun of it). It made him smile to hear the children shout in joy at the strange sight of his snow, but as he flew back across the lands and neared his destination, he became more and more glum. Yes, it was Pitch, as Bunny had said, but he was still a kid, and Jack Frost was not one to make children unhappy. Maybe once he found him he wouldn’t even be upset anymore.

He approached one of the yetis (definitely not Phil) upon arriving and asked him to wrap up the stack of clothing in a silver box with a dark blue bow. Happy to be doing something during the workshop’s downtime, the yeti complied and Jack was soon searching for North and Pitch to deliver the gift.

He found them in a small room near North’s bedroom. Pitch was searching around the room and grabbing at any book or bauble he could reach, North standing at a short distance observing. He was smiling when he turned to Jack.

“He is very curious,” he told him. Pitch whipped his head around at the sound of North’s voice, but froze up when he saw Jack, an expression of distaste spreading across his features. So much for a change of heart. However, his eyes did dart to the silver box, and Jack used that as a way to approach.

“Hey, I got you something,” he said, extending the gift. Pitch hesitated before snatching the box and moving further away to sit on the floor and begin tearing at the ribbon. His face fell when he threw aside the lid and began picking through the contents. Holding up a puffy green jacket, he threw Jack a murderous glare.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jack asked him, but Pitch merely shoved the clothes back in the box before pushing it aside and crossing his arms. North clapped a hand down on Jack’s shoulder.

“My friend, clothes are the absolute worst gift you can give a child,” he sighed.

“What? I’d have been happy to have gotten new clothes as a kid!”

“Pitch is apparently a bit more modern in his tastes. You would have been better to have gotten him a toy or two. No matter, I am glad he at least has something to wear now. Come Pitch, let’s get you dressed.”

Pitch was snatched up by North and led away with the box before he could protest, leaving Jack to sit and contemplate another failed attempt at pleasing the little Boogeyman. He would win Pitch over one way or another. He just had to! The others could keep their lofty goals of changing Pitch for the better while he was like this. Jack had only one thing in mind, and that was to make sure he befriended each and every child he met...including Pitch.

A week passed and Pitch remained small. He took to wandering North’s home at all hours of the day (dressed in his new clothing, which he’d never thanked Jack for) searching for books. It seemed he could read some of the simpler ones, but if he happened across a large tome he ran to North to tell him the story, or to Tooth when she visited.

Jack miserably watched the little Pitch warm to each of his companions. When he was not running about the workshop exploring, he was at North’s hip begging for a new toy or asking the man to read to him. Tooth was his favorite to hug and play with -- he’d often chase her from room to room in absolute hysterics, his happy, innocent laughter ringing from wall to wall. Sandy helped him pursue quieter activities when North needed rest, entertaining Pitch with his sand and helping him create artwork from fingerpaint or crayons the yetis provided them. Bunny had kept his promise to avoid them altogether and never returned, but even he wasn’t outright hated by the little Pitch.

Perhaps worse than the nasty glares he’d gotten from Pitch at first was being ignored by him. Pitch took to walking right past Jack and not so much as glancing at him, something that made the pain of the last three centuries return tenfold. Still, he tried to win over the child even with such cold reception. Each attempt ended in another failure. He’d tried throwing an enchanted snowball at the back of Pitch’s head, hoping to fill him with the spirit of fun, only to make him cry and run into Tooth’s arms.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he complained to Sandy after another week had passed and he was still being pointedly ignored by Pitch. “You guys are doing great with this whole ‘make Pitch feel welcome’ thing, and then there’s me. I just can’t seem to get him to like me.”

Sandy shaped his answer over his head -- a golden scene depicting Jack turned away from a smaller figure meant to be Pitch. It took a moment, but Pitch eventually noticed Jack was not attempting to approach him and went up to tug on his golden sleeve.

“You’re saying I should just...stop trying and let him come to me? What is he, a cat?”

Sandy shrugged, indicating that’s what he believed more-or-less.

“Huh. I don’t know, Sandy. But I guess it’s the only thing I haven’t tried.”

It still hurt to watch Pitch play with the others, but Jack kept his distance and observed instead. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have practice doing just that, but after finally, finally being seen by children it was difficult to control himself and not join in on the fun. He’d wondered for many years why it was the Guardians were so easily accepted and believed in, and yet he’d been cast as the eternal onlooker. Even their greatest enemy warmed to them without hesitation, while he was forced, yet again, to wait.

He took advantage of his situation to study the little Pitch, looking for signs he was aging or some trace of his old soul in the young body. There was never anything that indicated either. If he’d not maintained his pale grey skin, black hair, and golden eyes, there would be hardly any indication that this was ever the horrific Pitch Black that attempted to snuff out all the goodness in the world. The glares he’d shot at Jack were ‘Pitch-like’, as were his occasional tantrums, but those dwindled as he spent more time among the Guardians.

Jack wondered if Bunny’s words had any merit at all, then. If he’d truly been born the evil, heartless creature he became, he should have shown more animosity toward the others. Perhaps there wasn’t an excuse for the way he acted toward Jack -- no evil core or poor upbringing. Perhaps it was just time for Jack to accept that there was a child that did not like him, and that was that.

He thought he might join Bunny in the Warren for a few days to get away for a while. It had been a month since Pitch had come to live with North at the Pole, and though he’d waited like Sandy suggested, it had been to no avail. He grabbed a few of his things from the room North had given him and had his staff propped against his shoulder, ready to leave, when he realized he was being followed toward the door. He expected to turn and find some of the nosy elves sneaking behind him, but he was met with the sight of Pitch at his heels. The child looked sheepish when he’d been caught.

“Where are you going?” Pitch said stiffly.

“Oh, uh... just to visit somebody,” Jack replied.

“Why?”

“Uh, well, he’s a friend. I just wanted to go hang out for a while.”

“Oh.”

Pitch tugged at the sleeves of the green jacket Jack had given him.

“You okay?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Pitch muttered, before giving an exasperated sigh. “Sandy said I should say sorry to you. He told me you weren’t trying to be mean when you threw that snowball at me or laughed at me.”

“Oh. Well I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I know...I guess. Are you leaving because of me?”

He looked up at Jack with wide, bright eyes full of guilt and Jack couldn’t help but kneel down to rest a hand on his shoulder. He was suddenly struck with another idea that might mend the tension between them.

“No, of course not. Why don’t you come with me to visit my friend? Do you like warm places?”

“I don’t know. I like my bed and that’s warm.”

Jack laughed and stood up, offering a hand to Pitch.

“I’m not warm, but I promise you where we’re going is. Come on.”

Pitch had flown with Tooth before, but he still seemed amazed as he was swept away by Jack and taken over the snowy landscape of the North Pole and arctic. Jack’s heart swelled with joy upon hearing Pitch laugh because of him for the first time as they zipped over the ice. The arctic wildlife looked up at them in wonder, and Pitch pointed out seals and polar bears to Jack, waving to them as they passed.

It was only a short while before the wind carried them to Burgess, where the summer sun was just sinking in the sky. Pitch seemed too preoccupied with tugging off his heavy winter coat to notice that Jack was leading them toward a group of children sitting by a lake, and he started in surprise at the sound of voices.

“Hey Jamie. I brought that kid I was telling you about.”

Jamie took one look at Pitch and his smile faded. Pitch took a few steps backward and obscured himself behind Jack.

“Is that...”

“Yeah, that’s Pitch, but listen,” he stepped forward, having to pull his hoodie out of Pitch’s grasp to kneel next to Jamie. “He doesn’t know who he is, all right? He’s just another kid as far as he’s concerned.”

Jamie looked at the small Boogeyman dubiously, but thankfully he and his friends were much quicker to accept Pitch among their ranks that Bunny hand been. It took some coaxing from Jack, but at last Pitch agreed to play with the children and Guardian of Fun. Finally, Jack was back in his element. Though he wasn’t used to playing with children without the aid of snow, he quickly caught on to the games they’d been playing before he’d arrived. A contest to catch fireflies began, under the guidelines that Jack couldn’t cheat by flying or using his powers. He proved more clumsy sans powers than he remembered, but if tripping over tree roots earned a laugh from Pitch, it was well worth it.

Most of the children had brought jars to temporarily house their fireflies, though Jack and Pitch were limited to their cupped hands. Pitch had caught quite a few when Jack noticed him staring down at his hand, alight with the glow of the fireflies. He seemed entranced by the sight of his grey flesh pulsing a faint green, and Jack saw in that moment a familiar expression of agony in the young eyes. He flew over to his side without thinking, a faint shout of ‘no cheating!’ from Jamie following him before the other returned to his hunt.

Pitch was so focused on his hand that he didn’t even acknowledge Jack hunched over his shoulder. The Guardian was about to ask what had made such a concerned look cross his face when Pitch looked up to stare at him.

Pitch opened his fist and one by one the fireflies crawled down his arm and lifted their wings in flight -- all but one, which Pitch gripped between his fingers, a hair from crushing it.

“These things are weird,” Pitch said lowly, his expression darker than Jack had seen it yet. He swallowed thickly before he spoke again. “I could kill it.”

“You could,” Jack said, his voice hollowed by concern.

“I could kill it and make a ring out of its stupid butt. But I shouldn’t.”

His last statement seemed almost to be a question, and he looked up at Jack to confirm or deny what he’d said. Jack thought once more of what Bunny had said -- that some kids were just born evil, and that nothing could be done to fix that. He heard the desire to destroy in Pitch’s small voice. Even with all of the Guardians care, here he was, a child, expressing such violent notions.

“You shouldn’t,” Jack said. “You shouldn’t say ‘stupid’ or ‘butt’ either.”

Pitch looked balefully at him before throwing his hand up in the air. The firefly was flung from his grasp and it flashed once in the darkness before flying away. Pitch giggled.

“Don’t tell Mr. North I said those words,” he said mischievously, and he ran off toward the other children. Jack stared at his retreating back in bewilderment, but soon enough he too forgot all about the incident as the children pulled them into another game, and then another and another until Jamie’s mother came to round them up. They chattered excitedly to her about their fun with Jack Frost and the Boogeyman, which earned an amused laugh. Each waved their goodbyes before making the trek back to Jamie’s home and the late dinner that awaited them.

“That was a lot of fun,” Pitch told Jack after the children had left. “I’m tired though. Can we go home?”

“Yeah, of course.”

They headed back to the Pole, and Jack was a bit surprised to find Bunny among those that awaited their return. The Guardian of Hope had not so much as said hello to one of them since the first meeting North had arranged regarding Pitch’s situation. He looked a bit sheepish when Jack approached with Pitch at his side.

“Hey,” Bunny said softly. “Hm...looks like he’s warmed up to you, eh?”

Pitch was staring at Bunny in fascination.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, seeming to have forgotten this was the very creature that had been intent on denouncing him as an evil little devil a month prior. Jack thought sadly it might have to do with the fact Pitch’s vision was too obscured by tears and his mind too clouded by confusion and fright to take in much of that day, and he honestly didn’t recall Bunny.

“Er...”

Bunny never said yes nor no, but Pitch approached and stroked the fur of his leg nonetheless. Tooth giggled at his uncomfortable expression.

“Soft,” Pitch announced happily.

Bunny endured the petting with a pained expression until North appeared and scooped Pitch into his arms.

“Time for bed, zaychik,” he said softly, earning a whine from Pitch and a questionable twitch of the nose from Bunny. “You all wait here. Bunny had something he wished to discuss.”

“But I don’t wanna go to bed,” trailed Pitch’s voice as he was carried upstairs.

Jack waited until he heard the click of a door closing before happily announcing his victory.

“He’s finally friends with me,” he told them. “You guys, you had no idea how worried I was. I thought a kid actually hated me.”

“That’s good, Frostbite,” Bunny said. “But listen...for your sake and the safety of everyone, we need to move him. There’s no telling when he’s going to revert back.”

“Where are you suggesting exactly?” Tooth asked, crossing her arms. “I have a feeling it’s somewhere remote and involves being locked away.”

“For the love of the Moon, Tooth,” Bunny sighed, exasperated. “All of you seem to be convinced you can just change this monster into something we’d want within a hundred miles of us, let alone under our roofs. Listen to me, there isn’t enough time to shape him into an entirely different, good person. There is time to put him somewhere he can’t get out of once he’s back to normal.”

“Bunny,” North barked from the top of the staircase, getting the group to halt the conversation while he descended. “I believe we had this conversation last time you were here, and I asked you to stay out if you did not agree to our plan.”

Bunny looked as though he wanted to rip his fur out.

“You’re mad! You’ve finally lost it. That’s it. You’re senile. It’s time to get you a nice vacation home in Florida and just be done with it. Frostbite, start eating some cookies so the red coat will fit...”

“Calm down Cottontail,” Jack snorted. “Look, none of us are as stupid as you think. Of course there are risks with this whole thing. But really, locking him away? All that’s going to do is piss him off once he’s back to normal. At least this way there’s a chance of showing him that we don’t really want to fight.”

“You don’t,” Bunny sneered. “I can’t believe I’m even having to argue this. Look, do we even know if he’ll retain memories of the time he spent as a kid?”

The others tensed and looked to North.

“Ah...that....that part was not specified,” he admitted.

“Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant.”

Bunny muttered something about North’s lack of a brain and went to brood near the fireplace while the others dealt with the news. Sandy was the one to suggest something at last. He communicated his plan to Jack, who was the only one willing to approach Bunny in the middle of his little fit.

“Bunny,” he said, getting closer to him than even North would have dared. “Sandy made a suggestion. What if you stayed here for a while, to guard the place, you know? You could even bring the warrior eggs.”

North groaned behind him, not wanting the heavy, destructive warriors anywhere near his workshop.

“...but uh, I think you’d be enough of a guard. You can hear a lot better than all of us and you’re faster too, so if something happened you could warn us.”

“You say ‘if’ like there’s a possibility this won’t go horribly wrong. Why should I look out for you when you’re willingly putting yourselves in danger?”

“Because we’re a team, and it’s all for one and one for all...even when you don’t necessarily agree. And come on Bunny, it’s not like you’ve got the best track record going right now. I mean you said I wasn’t cut out to be a Guardian, and look at me now, hmm? So who’s to say you’re right about this?”

“I am right. And if you all are really going to be that stupid, then I guess it is up to me to save you. Moon above...”

Bunny gave a heavy sigh, but all that mattered was that he’d been convinced to let Pitch remain.

\--

Bunny was surprisingly quiet and inconspicuous for his size. He preferred to avoid anywhere he might encounter Pitch, instead opting to stay in the secret little places only he and North seemed to know about. Jack had tried to follow him once or twice, but it only resulted in getting confused and eventually winding up right where he began. It was no matter -- Jack had been officially granted “best friend forever” status by Pitch, and that was a role that kept him very busy.

Sleepovers with Jack became a semi-regular occurrence over the next months. Pitch was a rather private child that enjoyed sleeping in his own bed most nights (with the door cracked to let in a little light, much to the Guardians’ amusement), but he would wander into Jack’s quarters some nights and beg for a story, which inevitably led to building a sheet fort or playing a game until Pitch became sleepy. He liked to climb into Jack’s bed and pretend to be asleep as Jack cleaned up, but was always unable to contain his smirk when the frost spirit approached.

“Come on, I know you’re not asleep,” Jack would say, and he’d smile when he got a “yes I am” in reply.

Of course, there came a night when Pitch actually did fall asleep in Jack’s bed. Jack had scooped him up in his arms and carried him back to his own room, but within a few minutes Pitch was at the entrance to his room, calling into the darkness.

“Jack, can I sleep with you tonight?” he’d said groggily, and he’d sounded so pitiful Jack had allowed it. It wasn’t as if such an arrangement was strange. He’d often climbed into his parents bed to cuddle between them when he was young, and had even shared a bed with his sister when they were small children. It was actually rather nice to have someone want to be beside of him after so many years alone.

“You’re cold,” Pitch had muttered before falling asleep, though he curled next to Jack all the same. Jack had only smiled and let himself fall into slumber, and from then on out, if Pitch wanted to visit Jack it was assumed he’d be sleeping over. He revealed himself to be a bit of a sheet hog and had to be yanked, quite literally, from beneath the duvet in the mornings, but Jack didn’t mind if that meant having someone there to whisper secrets to and laugh with in the dark.

Then came a morning unlike the rest. Jack realized something was wrong before he even opened his eyes. The prior night the young Pitch had fallen asleep at his side after a night of stories and shadow puppets, but the weight beside of him was no longer that of a child he could lift in his arms and carry to bed. The hairs on his neck stood up as dread washed over him.

He took a deep breath and sat up to face his bedmate. Pitch was there, every looming inch of his adult form, wearing a stony expression (and that was likely all he was wearing, if judging by his shirtlessness...).

“Happy birthday,” Jack offered.

Pitch stared at him with such a hard expression he felt he might wither. The silence that followed was painful.

“Do you, uh, remember anything? Because if you don’t and you’re waking up shirtless next to a guy who's supposed to be your enemy, I can understand the expression. But hear me out--”

“I am aware,” Pitch said, his voice as strained as the look on his face. “That I am in your bed because last night I was a child that had befriended you. I remember everything.”

Pitch did not look particularly pleased with this.

Unsure of how to respond, Jack stared down at his hands atop the sheets. It had been months since Pitch came into their company, and in such a short time so much had changed. He was unused to seeing Pitch so tense and unhappy. He’d thought that he’d been nothing but kind to the other in their time together. The Guardians had fed him and kept him entertained. All the same Pitch looked as if he wanted to crawl out of his skin...yet it was apparent he’d been awake for some time, and hadn’t fled or hurt Jack. Perhaps...?

“Look,” Jack said. “We know it doesn’t change the past, but we tried. We tried to show you that despite everything, there are people who care about you.”

“You care about those who look the part of a helpless child,” Pitch sneered. “Once children stop believing in you and grow up, you don’t tend to care so much, do you?”

“Grown-ups don’t need the kind of help we give--”

“Spoken like an eternal child,” Pitch interrupted with a bitter laugh. “How would you know such a thing, Jack Frost? You who are condemned to the body and habits of a youth for the rest of your days? In fact, how should any of the Guardians know such a thing? “Grown-ups don’t need help?” -- yet even the eldest among you depends on belief for strength, in the same way belief fuels the happiness of children. How rather presumptuous to make such a claim.”

All that Jack had wanted to say fled from his mind. The reminder of his youth stung a little, but he brushed it aside to consider Pitch’s words. It was rather troubling they’d waited to reevaluate their battle with Pitch until he was dumped into their arms by a convenient curse. Jack had felt bad about it from the day it had happened, but never thought to pursue confronting Pitch.

“I guess you’re right,” Jack said at last. “Maybe we don’t think about how much adults need help, because it’s easier to help someone who looks vulnerable. The same way it was easier to help the Guardians when they were falling apart and you looked so strong.”

There was a pause, and the smug expression Pitch took on when Jack agreed with him faded. An unspoken ‘what if’ hung between them in their silence. Pitch had done many terrible things, but that had not stopped Jack from seriously considering his offer for companionship when they spoke in Antarctica. Especially when the other’s shoulders had fallen and his emotions washed over him, as if his strength was merely an illusion maintained by will alone. Especially when he was so unsure of himself as belonging with the Guardians.

“Yet, apparently vulnerability alone is not enough to sway you,” Pitch commented dryly. “My mistake. I should have brought along my CV for your consideration when I confronted you in Antarctica.”

“You know there’s more to what happened between us than that,” Jack retorted. “Maybe I didn’t handle things the way I should have. Maybe the Guardians haven’t been doing the best job they could be doing... but we’re trying to change things. And I think you want to change things too, otherwise you wouldn’t still be here talking to me.”

Pitch looked embarrassed for all but a second before his sneer returned.

“Is that truly why you think I’m still here, Frost? Because you believe you’ve changed me in what is equivalent to a minute in the long life I’ve lived? A handful of days will not change what was forged in pain and rejection over hundreds of years. You are more of a child than I thought - still so full of blissful ignorance.”

“Then why _are_ you here? You could have left. You could have killed me in my sleep. But you didn’t.”

“Because I...” the embarrassed expression returned before shortly morphing into a scowl, not unlike the one children took on when they were forced into giving an insincere apology.

“Because...?”

“I felt you were worth at least a green ribbon - A for effort, Frost. You and your precious friends have failed in your endeavor to ‘fix’ me, but it would be foolish of me to believe I could have survived on my own in such a state.”

“The word is ‘thanks’, I believe,” Jack snorted.

“I’m not ‘thanking’ anyone. I am acknowledging your part in my continued survival.”

“You’re welcome.”

Pitch looked thoroughly flustered by Jack’s gentle smile and jerked the duvet off to get out of bed, revealing, indeed, the child’s pajama set he’d worn the night prior was no more. It was Jack’s turn to feel embarrassed, and he quickly averted his eyes at the sight of Pitch’s nakedness. It seemed to amuse Pitch as he walked freely about the room in all his glory, searching for something that would temporarily work as a cover-up.

“Oh please, Jack. As if you’ve seen no naked body in your 300 years.”

“Yeah,” Jack muttered, still unable to look at Pitch. “But it wasn’t...you.”

“I’m flattered. Now I suggest you find something that I can wear before I make a robe of those sheets.”

“You might as well take them,” Jack said as he got out of bed and tried his best to avoid looking at Pitch. “It’s not like you haven’t been stealing them every time you stayed over.”

“Pardon me for wanting to stay warm when I was sleeping next to the very embodiment of winter.”

“You could have slept in your own bed, you know.”

“I could have,” Pitch said. “As I could have squashed the life from a little firefly or left when I awoke as an adult. I could have killed you in your sleep. But I didn’t, did I?”

Jack looked up without thinking much about the issue of Pitch’s indecency to study his face. He was smiling - not smirking or sneering - for the first time that morning. Yet the smile, coupled with his ambiguous statement, wasn’t the same as the ones of the child Pitch. Perhaps he’d never see such a smile again.

Eventually they found an ugly, oversized Christmas sweater Jack had received from North some time ago, and a pair of boxers that were stretchy enough around the waist they could fit Pitch. Jack laughed at the sight of the Boogeyman in such an awkward get up, but admittedly it felt a bit strange as well -- Pitch sleeping over as a kid was one thing, but a fully-grown Pitch wearing his clothes was another entirely. And Pitch, being the devil he was, took full advantage of Jack’s discomfort with the situation.

“I’ll keep your clothes at my lair should you wish to retrieve them,” he said, snorting when he noted the faint blush that spread across Jack’s bloodless cheeks.

“You can keep them,” Jack replied.

“Oh? It sounds as though you don’t wish to visit me. I guess we’re not best friends forever anymore, are we?”

“Pitch...”

“I thought we pinky-promised to be best friends forever, Jack.”

The Moon help him. He’d thought his time with Pitch would have been material he got to use for teasing, not the other way around.

“You’re being awfully friendly with me for someone that hasn’t changed his mind on anything you know.”

Pitch rolled his eyes.

“Learn to understand a joke, Frost. Guardian of Fun is what they call you? The Moon is more lax than ever in his choices if you cannot even comprehend sarcasm...”

Pitch looked out the window that overlooked the vast expanse of snow surrounding the Pole. The Moon was still visible in the early morning sky, sneaking a peak at Earth from beside the sun. Jack watched Pitch study it as if they were carrying on a conversation, though nothing in his expression changed nor did he ever speak a word.

“So I guess...you don’t want to say goodbye to the others? They’re going to miss you too,” Jack said quietly.

Pitch turned to look at him.

“Is that so? The very beings that have spent centuries trying to quash my ambitions will ‘miss’ me? And ‘too’, you say...implying the frost spirit that wanted nothing to do with me shall miss me as well?”

“I will miss you,” Jack said, his bluntness quickly quelling any smugness from Pitch. “I had a lot of fun with you over the past few months, and it wasn’t about ‘fixing’ you. I think I learned a lot more about kids and my center by being around you. And I think we could still be friends and have fun together even now... I think you could still ask North for advice. I think Sandy could still be someone that understands all that art stuff you like to do. I think Tooth could still give you hugs when you’re down and talk you through all the bad feelings you have. And I think you could prove Bunny wrong -- which is mostly why I’m suggesting all this.”

Pitch laughed. A hollow, awkward laugh that seemed pulled from a deep, deep place, but a laugh not tainted by malice all the same.

“Oh, you dear boy. Relentless, aren’t you? So, so foolish,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “If any among you was right, it was the rabbit you are so intent on besting. Do not be so cruel as to tempt me with false hope. You agreed with me that things change in the eyes of the Guardians when a child grows up. If I stepped outside to say goodbye, I may as well reveal a monster. They will not see it as you believe.”

“You don’t know that. Please, just say good--”

“No,” Pitch said sternly. “I am returning to my home before that infernal rabbit comes barging in here - don’t think children don’t hear things just because you put them behind a door. I know his intent is to attack me if he doesn’t find me changed, and I suspect I could be a saint and his bitterness would still cause him to assault me. Now goodbye, Frost. I’ve said it to you and that’s all you’re getting.”

Pitch opened the window and Jack realized he was about to sink into the shadows.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, and he startled Pitch enough to get him to stop.

“What is it? For the Moon’s sake, I do not have time--”

“Exactly! Time. I know this wasn’t enough time. But maybe... maybe I _could_ visit? Maybe you could at least try to see what happens when we hang out now that you’ve grown up? I mean... as long as you’re not trying to take over the world you don’t seem like that bad of a guy.”

“You won’t fix me, Frost. If your Guardians’ theory that good times can replace bad memories is to even be testable, it would take you hundreds of years to ever equalize the two.”

“Then so be it,” Jack said. “I mean, what else do I have to do on my weekends for the next few hundred years? Besides, it’s not even about fixing you, I told you that. It’s about being friends.”

Pitch shook his head and fell into silence. Jack waited for his response, his heart sinking with each second that ticked by. He feared Pitch was about to slip right into the shadows and be gone for good.

“I told you I expect you to retrieve this hideous sweater,” Pitch muttered at last. “I don’t want to see it hanging around, Frost. It had better be gone soon.”

Jack called one last ‘happy birthday’ out the window as Pitch disappeared.

He felt it was fair to mark another tally under his name on the chart he kept in his bedside drawer. He’d kept the chart since Easter when he first joined the Guardians. So far his tallies read,

Bunny: 0  
Jack: 2


End file.
